Authors: Christy Reece
Lucas lifted his shoulders in a casual shrug. “It’s possible. However, I’d like the opportunity to talk with her—ask her myself.”
McCall shook his head. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think LCR can help you.”
With a nod, Lucas stood. Noah McCall wasn’t known for changing his mind once a decision had been made. Lucas saw no point in trying to persuade him. However, he’d gotten at least a piece of the answer he’d been searching for. This woman did indeed have some sort of connection with Last Chance Rescue. That was apparently the only thing he was going to get.
Holding out his hand, he shook Noah’s hand and then Samara’s. As he walked to the door, Samara McCall’s soft voice stopped him. “Mr. Kane, if you don’t mind my asking … If given a chance to see this young woman again, what would you say to her?”
He turned and gave her the truth, hoping that it would get to his ghost. “I would thank her and tell her that if at any time she ever needs my help in any way or for any reason, I would be there for her.”
With a slight smile, she said, “Very nice to meet you, Mr. Kane. Have a good trip home.”
Lucas nodded again and walked out the door.
Noah waited several seconds until he was sure Kane had gotten on the elevator, then he turned to Samara. “So what do you think?”
“I think he’ll keep looking until he finds her.”
“Did you also get the impression he knew we weren’t be exactly truthful?”
She scrunched her nose. “My fault. He surprised me when he said the words that you and I both feel about McKenna. That she needs help in some way.”
“Don’t worry about that. His knowing she has some kind of association with LCR won’t get him any more information than he had before.”
“Something else is bothering you though … what?” Samara asked.
“I just think it’s interesting that Kane picked up on McKenna’s vulnerability. When she’s on an op, she’s excellent at hiding her true self. Which makes me even
more curious about what really happened during the rescue. When she gave me the details, I sensed she was disturbed about something.”
Samara nodded. “I talked to her a couple of weeks after it happened. She glossed over the entire event, but I got the feeling she had a distinct admiration for Lucas Kane.”
“He’s done some admirable things since he took over his family’s dynasty. Did you get a feel for why he’s so intent on finding her?”
A smile curved his wife’s mouth, and Noah couldn’t resist the opportunity to feel it under his. After several breathless moments, he pulled from the kiss and said, “Sorry, got distracted … you were saying?”
Her smile now even bigger, she said, “I think in the short amount of time that Lucas and McKenna spent together, they both felt a strong attraction for each other.”
“You may be right.” He picked up the phone. “Now lets see if McKenna wants to do anything about Kane continuing his pursuit.”
McKenna hung up the phone. Refusing to acknowledge the racing of her heart at the knowledge that Lucas Kane was in Paris, searching for her, she went to her closet. Pulling her duffel bag from the top shelf, she immediately began to pack.
His hunt for her had gone further than she anticipated. She’d become aware of questions being asked about her in Brazil. Based upon the physical description the people searching for her had given, she had known they were Kane’s people. She hadn’t expected him to expand beyond Brazil, nor had she expected him to go to LCR. That was a little too close to home.
Why did he continue? Did he believe she was involved in his abduction? Was that the reason, or was there
more? Noah had indicated that Kane wanted to thank her. Perhaps that was all. She hoped so. Silly really, but she hated for Lucas Kane to think badly of her by believing she’d actually been in cahoots with Victor.
She’d had plenty of time to relive those moments during his rescue.
His rescue?
How laughable. Other than taking out Victor, she’d done very little. Pretty damn bad when the victim becomes the rescuer. Of all the damn times to pass out. Any other time she’d been forced to kill someone, she usually became nauseous. Not pleasant, but at least she was usually able to function to finish the rescue. Passing out was not only embarrassing; it was damn dangerous. They both could’ve been killed.
When she awoke, one man was dead. Thankfully she’d managed to distract the other one, but Lucas Kane had still been able to take care of him, even with a bullet hole in his shoulder.
After the excitement had passed and she was far enough away from Kane to think straight, she acknowledged that if she had never shown up, Lucas Kane would have gotten out of the situation all by himself. Which made her fascination for him even larger. Something she definitely hadn’t needed.
McKenna rushed around her little apartment, collecting the few things she wouldn’t leave without. She’d stayed here longer than she did most places…. It was past time to leave anyway. No use looking around and bemoaning the frilly little curtains she’d hand-stitched herself or the painting she’d found at a flea market that reminded her of home. She’d hung it over the television and found herself looking at it more than what was on TV.
She would leave those things, of course. Taking the minimal belongings was the only way she traveled and the only way she’d survived this long.
Being hunted wasn’t a new thing for her; she just had a new predator. No, she could never call Lucas Kane a predator. Noah’s words continued to whirl around in her head. “He wants to thank you … wants you to know that if you ever need anything, you only have to ask.”
McKenna snorted as she grabbed a handful of underwear. Maybe she should just go to Kane and tell him that for years she’s been hunted by a crazed maniac and would he mind hiring an army to kill him. She could just see his handsome face as she gave him her request. He probably wanted to give her a box of chocolates or a basket full of bath salts as a thank you, not a paid assassin.
No, she would never ask someone to do something she would one day have to do herself. There would be a final confrontation. And she would be the one who would end his sorry life. If she had to lose hers in the process, that was only fair. At some point she would stop being such a chickenshit and do the deed.
Standing on her rickety kitchen chair, she opened the cabinet above the refrigerator. Moving aside the bargain-sized jar of peanut butter, she pulled at the loose board behind it and opened the small area she’d created only hours after moving in. She took the nylon pouch and unzipped it and checked its contents, though she knew nothing had been moved. Six passports, five driver’s licenses, twenty-eight thousand dollars, and a small black wallet with three photographs. She no longer looked at the pictures … they were carved into her mind, seared into her soul, but she would never go anywhere without them.
She stepped down and returned the chair under the table. Zipping the pouch, she dumped it in with her clothes and toiletries. Placing her notebook computer on top of everything, McKenna closed the bag and
straightened. With a long, silent sigh, she took one last glance at the landscape above the television, grabbed the duffel bag, and walked out the door.
Lucas Kane needed to stop looking for her. There was only one way to ensure that he did.
Second Chance
is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
A Ballantine Books Mass Market Original
Copyright © 2010 by Christy Reece
Excerpt from
Last Chance
by Christy Reece copyright © 2010 by
Christy Reece
All rights reserved.
Published in the United States by Ballantine Books, an imprint of The Random House Publishing Group, a division of Random House, Inc., New York.
B
ALLANTINE
and colophon are registered trademarks of Random House, Inc.
This book contains an excerpt from the forthcoming novel
Last Chance
by Christy Reece. This excerpt has been set for this edition only and may not reflect the final content of the forthcoming edition.
eISBN: 978-0-345-51777-7
v3.0